Parking
by slythatheart
Summary: Maybe Jeep needed a coolant check, because he probably shouldn't be getting quite this hot so quickly, no matter what Camaro sounded like. Jeemaro crack!fic


**Parking**

Jeep was relieved when he was directed past the empty space next to Porsche and further along to pull into the gap beside Camaro. Last time he was left with Porsche the more expensive vehicle tormented him until he almost couldn't start his motor from humiliation.

Camaro wasn't like that at all. Well, okay, he was still more expensive than Jeep, but he didn't seem to care about that. He was loud and aggressive, but he wasn't really mean or arrogant the way Porsche was. He always, _always_ seemed to be where Jeep was – like some kind of creep-mobile – but he was also the sexiest thing on four wheels that Jeep had ever seen (barring the Batmobile, but fictional characters and celebrities _so_ didn't count), so Jeep was mostly okay with being sort of stalked.

Once his owner left the nearly-empty lot and disappeared down the darkened steps nearby, Jeep flickered his lights in a quick greeting at Camaro. The newer car didn't respond, but from so close Jeep could feel a very brief, almost non-existent rumble from his engine.

He probably shouldn't be as pleased as he was, but that was more acknowledgement than _Porsche_ ever got from Camaro. Besides, Camaro was always kind of reserved when he and Jeep weren't alone, and even though Pedals wasn't around, Porsche _was_.

And Porsche was a total oil-flush.

Camaro didn't hate Porsche like Jeep did; he'd even kind of pseudo-adopted him in the way he was inclined to do to pretty much any vehicle he knew that wasn't Jeep. Not that Jeep was jealous, not _really_, because if Camaro adopted him they wouldn't do things that make his engine overheat whenever they were alone for long enough. But maybe Jeep would just like a little more attention.

Maybe.

Definitely.

But it didn't matter that Camaro didn't hate Porsche, because after Porsche pulled out of the lot with human-Porsche and the red head inside, Camaro flashed his lights at Jeep. He never flashed his lights at anyone else, especially not like that. It wasn't a friendly flicker hello, it was a full on suggestive assault of HID perfection.

That noise wasn't Jeep's engine trying to turn over without permission. It wasn't.

Jeep wasn't fresh out of the factory anymore, even if Camaro sometimes made him feel like he was, with his stupidly shiny paint job and his unfairly hot wheels. Jeep was well into his life and he could control his own motor, no matter how Camaro behaved.

And okay, _that_ noise was Camaro's engine starting up. Smoothly and cleanly, like a car in his prime _should_, unlike Jeep's nervous and spluttering ignition, which was trying again without his permission. And succeeding, apparently.

Hell.

To be fair, it wasn't as if any other car would be able to ignore Camaro and his ridiculously powerful engine. Other motors would be running just as quickly, would be responding just as eagerly, around Camaro's confident purring. But maybe Jeep needed a coolant check, because he probably shouldn't be getting _quite_ this hot so quickly, no matter _what_ Camaro sounded like.

And fuck, he sounded _good_.

He _always_ sounded good. And yes, Jeep was older – he'd almost certainly clocked up more miles under the hood than Camaro had – but he thought that probably made it worse. He'd never quite managed to work past the nervousness he felt around Camaro, especially since the other car was in such perfect condition. Camaro…Camaro was like a showroom model – probably still under original warranty. He was still immaculate, still shiny and new looking. His paint was perfect and he was all controlled power and sleek curves.

Jeep, on the other hand, was weathered. His paint wasn't nearly so fresh, his chassis wasn't streamlined or modern, and despite his recent detail work he had more than his share of scratches and dents. His body just wasn't what it used to be, and sometimes…well…sometimes his equipment embarrassed him.

It was, in fact, embarrassing him right at that moment, although not in its usual 'works when it feels like it' manner; the complete opposite in fact. His engine was running like _crazy_, not that he was surprised – he never struggled to start when confronted with Camaro's aerodynamic body and V8 power.

So, starting wasn't the problem. To be honest, _finishing _wasn't the problem either. He just couldn't help feeling ashamed of how silly and fumbling he seemed next to Camaro's confident rumbling.

Jeep quivered; he was running too hard, idling too high. His engine was stuttering and he was shuddering self-consciously as he felt the intense revs of Camaro's strong motor vibrating through him.

He could feel himself rapidly reaching that dangerous point where he'd tip over the edge long before he was ready to, but something about the heat creeping over from the smoothly running car beside him made him powerless to get himself under control.

Camaro was doing it on purpose, Jeep could tell. He could be such a tail pipe when he was in the mood to be.

The engine under Camaro's flawless hood revved again, the noise peaking then settling once more in a way that made Jeep's erratic hum falter obviously. He knew he should be even more embarrassed – should be ashamed and lock himself in a garage somewhere _forever – _but he could tell from the way Camaro purred that the other car _liked_ his reactions, was running even hotter for it.

Just when Jeep thought he could bring himself away from the edge of overheating, the steady sounds from Camaro changed again, morphing from an even rumble into growing waves of reverberation, playing with him, rising and falling, each crest steadily higher until Jeep felt the echoes all the way through to his timing chain.

Fuck, he was so hot, _so hot_.

He knew it was coming but he just couldn't stop it. Jeep's engine was running harder than ever before; hot, eager and _needy_ for that vibration beside him. He could tell from the sneaky way Camaro's indicators flashed that Camaro was getting exactly what he wanted.

Camaro suddenly let his motor roar out a dominating growl, deliberate and sexy. It was so amazing – the sound, the _feeling_ – that Jeep couldn't help himself; his horn sounded, his headlights flickered, and he felt his engine seize as he stalled. _Hard_.

When he came back to himself moments later, he was mortified. He had gone off so quickly, as though he hadn't even made it off the assembly line, let alone become an experienced, _seasoned_ vehicle. He almost wished his owner would investigate the noise, maybe take him away so he didn't have to look at Camaro's smug grill, but then he heard it; Camaro's engine wasn't revving anymore, but it was still running, sounding almost content. He didn't seem frustrated or disappointed that Jeep stalled so quickly, nor did he sound like he was going to laugh at him. When Jeep braved a glance over, Camaro flashed his headlights lazily, reassuringly, and even through his embarrassment Jeep could tell that Camaro was pleased. His battery jolted at the welcome thought.

Well, then.

Jeep let his engine turn over once more, starting back up again carefully. Camaro was still idling lazily, but Jeep was going to make sure he didn't stay that way for long.


End file.
